


sounds like a hell of a lot of fun

by psychomachia



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Everything (It's Borderlands), Dubious Science, Fingerfucking, Fuck Or Die, Jealousy, M/M, Post-Borderlands 3 (Video Game), Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:01:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23871289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychomachia/pseuds/psychomachia
Summary: “Shut up.” Jack keeps smiling, though his eyes are sharp. “You ever hear that story about the snake? You knew what I was when you let me in. Don't tell me you're not a ruthless little fucker that betrayed people. I got some fun memories uploaded in here and I'm pretty sure you didn't get Atlas by baking cookies and asking people to vote for you for homecoming queen.”
Relationships: Handsome Jack/Rhys (Borderlands)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 116
Collections: Minigame: Round 1





	sounds like a hell of a lot of fun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [360Killer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/360Killer/gifts).



“Oh, cupcake, you really have gotten yourself into some trouble, haven't you?”

Fuck his life, Rhys thinks. Fuck Pandora. Fuck getting stranded. Fuck skags that chase you and secret caves that just happen to be there for you to fall into and plants that spew bright pink pollen in the air because everything here hates you and wants you to suffer. 

Fuck Jack. 

“You're dead,” he coughs out. “Go the fuck away.”

Jack just keeps grinning at him. He looks like something straight out of his posters, all sparkling white teeth and smugness hiding an unbelievable amount of omnicidal rage and pure insanity. “Now that's not very nice,” he says. “I came all this way to check up on you.”

Rhys tries to lift his hands so he can rub his eyes, blink away the dust that's no doubt causing this rather vivid hallucination. “I just need to--” He chokes as he takes into much of the glittering air. “I just need--”

“Yeah,” Jack says. “I know what you need.”

“Go away, Jack.” Rhys's blood is boiling, he's sweating like crazy, and fuck, he shouldn't be this hot. He knows Pandora has only two real seasons – varkid mating and thank God, they're finally dead, no wait, they're not, oh my God, why won't they die, someone please help me, but he's pretty sure it's winter and his entire body feels like he needs to strip everything off. 

Also, his cock is hard, but he's seeing Jack so that's a given. No amount of therapy can fix that. 

Jack just hums thoughtfully. “You know,” he says. “I was planning on just hunting you down and killing you. I had a lot of awesome ideas and at least a few stashes of eridium I kept for a rainy day. Seriously, pumpkin, your gruesome demise was third on my list right after making sure those eggheads were able to reintegrate my back-up into this shiny new body and getting my fucking company back after you tried to raze it to the ground.”

Rhys rolls his eyes. “That's all you, Jack,” he retorts. “You're the asshole that--”

“Shut up.” Jack keeps smiling, though his eyes are sharp. “You ever hear that story about the snake? You knew what I was when you let me in. Don't tell me you're not a ruthless little fucker that betrayed people. I got some fun memories uploaded in here and I'm pretty sure you didn't get Atlas by baking cookies and asking people to vote for you for homecoming queen.” 

“Go to hell.” Rhys shudders as another wave of heat hits him. “Just leave me alone.”

“See, I can't do that.” Jack bends down next to him, puts his surprisingly solid hand on Rhys's head. “I told you I had some great plans for you. And yeah, I thought about ripping you limb from limb and letting you be a pinata for the first annual “Take Your Disappointing Offspring to Work” day that HR wants me to do show how different I am from Jack 1.0.” Jack laughs. “Yeah, I think there's going to be some severe cutbacks in that department.” 

There's pink everywhere now. In Rhys's eyes, in his mouth, in his body, and maybe he'll let Jack do what he wants, rip off his skin because everything hurts, everything's hot, it's too much, Jack's too much--

Jack lightly slaps Rhys's face. “Focus, cupcake. I said I thought about it. But I wouldn't be the badass CEO that I'm going to be again if I didn't fucking take advantage of everything I have. And I have you.” There's a weird light in Jack's eyes, but it's probably just the hazy sun streaming in through the cave. 

“No.” It doesn't sound convincing even to Rhys. 

"You should be grateful I'm giving you a second chance." When Rhys opens his mouth, Jack puts a finger on his lips to hush him, leaves Rhys licking away a coppery taste on his tongue. "So don't worry. I'm going to help you out because I'm a hero and that's what we do.” 

“How are you going to--”

“Let me tell you a story.” Jack stands up, begins taking off his shirt to show his chest and yeah, he's even more impressive when he's not blue and translucent. “Once upon a time, there was this idiot VP that kept rambling on about love and peace and co-existence with the bandit scum here. Naturally, I had him airlocked within five seconds because that kind of stupidity has to be eradicated as soon as it pops up.”

Rhys can feel fingers at his pants, sliding them down, before removing his underwear. His shirt is ripped open, and he's bare, his entire body exposed before Jack and shit, no, Rhys knows better than this. He's the CEO of Atlas, he's got a kickass ninja bodyguard, he's opened a motherfucking Vault. He's not--

He's not. 

Jack's naked. 

Oh, fuck he is. 

“But I had this amazing thought,” Jack says, as he straddles Rhys, lets his hands tug painfully at Rhys's hair, “because I can spin anyone's idiocy into solid gold, that what if I just came up with something to distract these fuckers down here. I mean, Moxxi made good money off getting bandits wasted, so what if I could do something even better? Get themselves to fuck each other to death?”

It takes a moment for it to register in Rhys's fogged brain and then he finds he does still have some lung capacity left that isn't choked with pollen because he manages to shriek, “Are you fucking kidding me? You made sex pollen?”

Jack grins, leans his face in, and bites Rhys's neck. “Aren't I a goddamn genius?” 

“No,” Rhys says, and he'd add “you're a fucking monster,” he knows he would, but Jack's nipping down Rhys's shoulder and he's not going to say he's had dreams about this, but Vaughn has made it clear that he doesn't judge Rhys for this and by the way, you're totally cool about the bandit king thing, right? 

“Lucky for you,” Jack adds, once he's done making Rhys squirm beneath his teeth, “I have an antidote.”

“Really?” Rhys is trying not to sound hopeful because this is still probably some fucked-up hallucination his brain is giving him while he chokes to death alone in a cave because Zer0 needs vacation time just like everyone else and Rhys is definitely able to cope with adventuring on his own, he doesn't need someone to babysit him, Fiona. “What is it?”

“My dick.” 

“Fuck you, Jack.” 

“Exactly,” Jack says. He's stroking his cock, and okay, Jack's ego is far too inflated for anyone's good, but he's got reasons to be proud of what he's got down there. “Isn't it great? And it would have worked amazingly, but scientific replication is bullshit and R&D was like, sir, we've invested half our yearly profits into this project, we only have one working prototype, you can't have one person with the cure and we have tiny little peabrains that can't comprehend your genius or get shit to work right. Still, it's nice to see that Jackie's doing her job.”

“Of course you named it after yourself,” Rhys groans. 

Jack winks. “Why not? It gets you hot and horny and it's going to kill you at the end of it all.”

Rhys closes his eyes, overwhelmed and this is his life, this is how it's going to end, imagining his former idol turned attempted murderer fucking him because he can't move on even when he's gotten everything he wanted and thought he deserved. 

He yelps as something slides into his ass and his eyes fly open to see Jack studying him carefully. “Easy, cupcake,” Jack says and it's surprisingly gentle for him. “Pretty sure you don't want me just ramming my way into your tight little ass.” His eyes narrow. “Unless you've been letting someone else in there.”

Rhys can only gape. “Are you serious?” 

“What can I say?” Jack's lips are pressed tight, and he works another finger into Rhys's ass, making him buck as he strokes inside. “I don't like other people taking what belongs to me, especially pompous peacocks with inferior manufacturing standards.”

Wait—what? Does he mean-- “You think me and Katagawa?” 

Jack's got a third finger and he's working Rhys inside, hard and fast and yeah, that's not really easing him into it, so much as making it clear that Jack's feeling around for evidence that Rhys's ass has been tapped recently. “Don't tell me he wasn't making a move.” 

Rhys snorts. “First off,” he says, “if anyone was going to fuck anyone, it would have been me to Katagawa. And secondly, fuck you. If I want to fuck someone--”

“You won't,” Jack says softly, menacingly. “Not now. Not ever again.” He's up to four and he's making Rhys arch, making him gasp and pant. “And if you try something--” 

Rhys twists as Jack keeps working him, fingers inside him, his other hand taking a firm grasp of Rhys's cock, keeping him locked in a tight, hard grip that promises a fair number of things, some of which could be very painful indeed. “You can't stop me,” he grits out. 

Jack pulls his fingers out suddenly and Rhys feels a strange emptiness, but just for a second, before something bigger is pushing inside him. Jack's not going slow either, and Rhys is trying to breathe, but between the sudden pressure and the pollen in his lungs that makes him cough, makes his head spin, makes it so the only thing he can focus on is... 

“Sure,” Jack says, and his hand lets up a little on the grip, starts fondling Rhys's cock. “I'd have to kill you to really stop you and we'd both regret it, cupcake. Well, you'd regret it once you were screaming in pain, dying from liquid magma in your veins, and it would be a major pain for me to have to look for someone new to fuck again since most of my exes are either dead or have tried to kill me.” He frowns. “Speaking of which, remind me to kill Moxxi for the whole casino thing.” 

Rhys figures he should be more surprised that Jack has gotten anyone to sleep with him in the first place, given the rumors about Jack's sexual prowess (though to be fair, Rhys thinks, the majority of them were from the exes that had tried to take him out). And if the old Jack was a lousy lay, the Jack that Rhys has conjured up somehow is not, because he's working Rhys's cock like an expert, one hand stroking the shaft while his own cock is full inside Rhys, making him moan and fuck, if he is dying, it's not a terrible way to go. 

“So you'd miss me,” Rhys says, once he's caught his breath for a moment. “You admit it.”

“Just like you'd miss all your best buddies,” Jack says. “Fiona, right? And I'm pretty sure given enough time, I could track down her little sister too. And hey, how about Vaughn? Going full native!” He laughs unpleasantly. “You think I should pay a call on him?”

The chill that runs through Rhys should be welcome, given the overwhelming heat. It's not. “You wouldn't,” Rhys whispers. 

“Oh, cupcake,” Jack says. “We both know I totally would.”

Rhys shivers, and Jack must like how that feels against his cock, because he lets out a groan of his own and picks up speed. 

“Relax.” Jack tweaks Rhys's left nipple. “We're having fun here, right? And even though Maliwan is a shit-stain of a company, they weren't wrong about pursuing alliances. I think Hyperion and Atlas could definitely join forces. We could do some amazing things together.”

“Jack,” Rhys says. Everything's getting cloudy now, darkness creeping in at the edges of his vision. He tries to do something, to clutch at the ground, maybe push himself up, but he's losing strength, his fingers getting limp even as his cock is rigid in Jack's grip and he's going to come soon, if only Jack will let him. “Please.”

Jack's face wavers, and Rhys thinks he sees a blue line there. A symbol? He blinks and the face swims into focus. Huh. It's not there anymore, just Jack smiling at him.

“Good boy,” Jack says softly. “You see how much nicer things are when you just let me take care of them?” 

“Yes.” It might not be out loud. It doesn't matter anymore. 

There's a rush of warmth inside him as Jack comes and Rhys is also coming, spilling onto Jack's hand. He thinks dimly that Jack might fling it away from him, wipe it on the clothing because Rhys is dirtying him, but Jack just raises the hand to his lips, licks it slightly. 

“Oh, Rhys.” Jack's far away and Rhys is reaching out, but then he's close, touching Rhys's forehead and he's yawning, spent and tired and he thinks something must have changed because he's not burning anymore, and he's just going to take a little nap here. 

But--

“Get some sleep,” Jack says. “We've got big plans in the morning.”

Rhys lets himself go.


End file.
